


In Which Remus (Re)encounters the Wily Ways of Sirius Black

by i_claudia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-20
Updated: 2008-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At times, Remus seriously considered the idea that his taste in friends was woefully flawed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Remus (Re)encounters the Wily Ways of Sirius Black

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ [here](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/8475.html). (20 April 2008)

At times, Remus seriously considered the idea that his taste in friends was woefully flawed. It happened relatively often; perhaps once or twice on a slow day, possibly as many as fifteen times on a particularly exciting one. Each time, he declared sternly to himself that he would reform his ways and seek out more appropriate friends. Ravenclaws, perhaps. They seemed sedate, thoughtful, and unlikely to run screaming down the hallway clad in nothing but a dust mop and a feathered boa.

Of course, he never actually went through with his plans; somehow his conviction to associate with better people never lasted long enough to go out and _find_ said new friends. So it was really his own fault, he thought ruefully, that he couldn’t concentrate on his Potions essay because of all the noise. He put his head down on his textbook with a sigh, crossing his arms over his head in a feeble attempt to block out the shouts echoing around in the common room.

“Hail Padfoot, king of pranks!” yelled James, slinging one arm around Sirius’s shoulders and throwing the other out triumphantly. “Prankster to top all Hogwarts pranksters! Mastermind of genius masterminds!”

“And hail Prongs, vice-king of mischief!” Sirius bellowed back, clearly in a beneficent mood. “Head boy extraordinaire and a priceless strategist to boot!” Catching sight of Peter, Sirius swooped down on him and pulled him into the manly group hug. 

“Most excellent of sidekicks!” he caroled, and would have continued except that he overbalanced; and down the three Marauders went in a joyful heap on the red carpet.

“Well, bully for you all,” Remus muttered, feeling vexed. He determinedly propped his book in front of him, blocking his view of the common room, and scowled fiercely down at his essay, which was still at about five inches despite his best efforts to concentrate. He couldn’t help it if his cursed rowdy Gryffindor friends _distracted_ him all the time, he told it silently, feeling rebellious. It wasn’t his _fault_. He scrawled another few lines, pushing the pen with perhaps a trifle more viciousness than was required.

Gradually, he became aware of a steady pair of grey eyes watching him over the top of his book. He raised an eyebrow at Sirius, who was crouched on the other side of the table. 

“Mooooony.”

“What?” he asked, trying not to sound irritable. Irritability, he knew from long experience, would only provoke Sirius to even madder capers.

“You aren’t having fun,” Sirius accused him, sounding hurt, as if Remus had personally engineered his homework to fall exactly on the day of Sirius’s greatest prank so he could ruin the celebrations.

“This essay’s due tomorrow,” he reminded Sirius, pulling his book nearer. “It’s not my fault we can’t all write fantastic essays at one in the morning the day they’re due.”

Sirius jumped down from the table and came around to lean on the chair’s back, looking over Remus’s shoulder at the essay. Remus took a steadying breath and gripped his quill tighter, trying to concentrate on the Potions book instead of the fact that Sirius was _right there behind him_. He was suddenly possessed by the irrational fear that he hadn’t scrubbed the back of his neck that morning.

“We have an essay due tomorrow?” Sirius inquired, sounding completely unimpressed.

“For Potions,” Remus ground out, up to _here_ with silly berks who never had to study to do well in every single class and exuded natural charm with every breath and therefore managed to talk their way out of anything and yet were completely oblivious to their utter gorgeousness and who had hair that maybe Remus wanted to run his hands through sometimes, and Merlin, Remus thought, stricken, he was in so much trouble.

“Potions?” asked Sirius, still hanging over Remus’s shoulder, but before Remus could reply with some sort of scathing comment, he picked up the text and dangled it in the air in front of his face, propping his elbow on the top of Remus’s head in the same movement. He raised an expressive eyebrow at the book, showing it exactly what he thought of it and its friend-stealing ways.

“Oi!” Remus protested, feebly trying to reach up and grab it back. “Give it.”

“I think not,” Sirius declared, grabbing Remus’s wrist easily. Remus tried very hard not to dwell on the warm smoothness of Sirius’s fingers pressing lightly on his skin. Sirius shut the Potions book with a decisive snap, tossing it over his shoulder. Unable to suppress a slight whimper at such callous treatment of a book, Remus squirmed around under Sirius’s arm to make sure it hadn’t landed in the fire or a pudding or was in danger of being trampled by Gryffindors celebrating their prank-induced triumph over Slytherin.

“No more _homework_ , Moony, or you’ll turn into a dried up professor-librarian before you’re twenty.”

“But,” Remus argued, though he knew it was useless, “my essay…”

Sirius hauled Remus up out of his chair. “No,” he told him firmly. “The party’s no fun if you’re not in it.”

“Sirius, if I get a T on this assignment, so help me, I will…” began Remus, but then Sirius’s words actually sunk in. “Wait, what?”

“It’s no fun without you, Moony,” Sirius repeated, giving Remus a soulful look from beneath his eyelashes. Remus felt a bit lightheaded.

_So this is what that famous Black charm does_ , he thought giddily.

“Fine,” he said, giving an exasperated sigh to cover for his flushing cheeks.

Sirius beamed and swooped at him before he could react, giving him a noisy, wet smack on the cheek. Remus pulled a long face to hide his smile.

“Eurgh, Padfoot. That’s not even funny when you’re a dog.” 

Sirius shrugged in answer, still grinning, and pulled on Remus’s arm, pulling him away from the table. Remus followed obediently, knowing he was doomed but unable to quite bring himself to care.


End file.
